The Three Brothers
In the Las Vegas Sprawl, there exists a casino, called The Lucky Rub. This is not a coincidence or act of insanity: it refers to the three people who run the place, all bald or nearing baldness, and it comes from the old belief that to rub a bald man's head gave one luck. The three men are called "The Three Brothers", a misnomer as they are not officially related. This, however, has not prevented the nickname from sticking. They are three, all male, all balding or bald, and all are wealthy from the proceeds of the casino. It is a strange sight: curved and organic, it resembles an almost-insect like hive, but somehow manages to avoid being totally creepy. Even more odd are the prominent American flags displayed inside in the entrance lobby. The casino runs a nice profit. It is clean, attractive, the staff are friendly, the food is good, and the ambience is tasteful. The slots, card games, and various assorted trappings are unrigged, and it is found that people who gamble there have better luck then at other casinos. This has brought fame and fortune upon it, and a spotlight on the three men who own it: The Three Brothers. The Three Brothers are a distinctly unique lot: they are upscale, classy, and charismatic, but yet do not have any of the usual personality of the local celebrities. At times, they seem almost embarrassed to be in the spotlight. There are three of them, and they go by a common last name, despite being unrelated: Westwood. When asked why this was chosen, one of them always shrugs and says they picked it out of a hat. They each have their own personality, and their own name. There are three of them: Abel, Yaoi, and Nester. Abel Westwood is the oldest, and the most serious. He operates as the over manager and human resources of the casino, and is very good at it - the staff adore him and regard him as a great manager, friend, and confidant. To a few, he is even worshipped as a god. He is most often seen in the background, quietly giving a word of advice, a small gesture of encouragement, or merely a knowing small smile. About his past, he is reticent like all the others, and when he sleeps at night, he dreams of armies and battle, green minerals and spiky mutation, of countless years of history, and in his few nightmares eyeless things from beyond Earth. Yaoi Westwood is the security overseer and the casino game engineer. He is the most quiet, and the one slightly in the middle. To everyone, he appears withdrawn, but when he speaks to a guard or a tourist they feel a jolt of power, as though he was looking right into their minds. Unlike the others, where he goes is unknown: but when trouble happens, he is there, and soon after the would-be troublemaker stumbles away with glazed eyes to join the nearest Auxiliary post. Some suspect him of being a Soviet due to his accent, but whatever the truth may be or how he came to be with the Three Brothers he will not say. At night, his dreams are full of order, countless legions before him, and even multiple hims - and in his darkest night terrors, he dreams of teeth, scales, and jungle. Nester Westwood is the most outgoing, and usually operates at the frontman for The Lucky Rub and as financial planner. With a hearty laugh, a slap on the back, and a vague reference to the old days, he is quick to put any nervous person he meets at ease. The youngest, he often enjoys traveling throughout the casino, chatting with the patrons, saluting the American flag, or extolling the virtues of American Capitalism. He also is fond of talking about his experiences fighting "those goddamned Commies", before shaking his fist dramatically before going back to work. Though somewhat of an overly-optimistic man, he still looks upon his past days with solemn silence. When he sleeps, his mind is filled with metal, a blade, and a soaring eagle flying high overhead; and when he cries out on his sleep, it is because of an imagined great red bear holding the dead eagle in its jaws. These men form the Three Brothers, and they run their casino well. And, as more than a few dwellers of the Sprawl have noticed, they sometimes entertain private visitors, at night after even they have closed up. The visitors are a mysterious assortment: A young looking Russian man, together with a dark skinned woman whose movements are just a bit mechanical, whose speech is just a bit synthesized, and who refers to the man with love as "Mr. J"; a tall and silent Italian man in black suit, alongside a hulking war wolf always with him; a man covered by green uniforms, always referred to as "Leader" by the young 20-something Chinese woman he has by his side; an old man in flowing robes, with a prominent crucifix and a strange pump device on his back, along with a steel geared machine resembling a man, and imprinted on the forehead with AS; a grey-haired British man, who seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and who alway is seen in a crisp blue uniform; A stout bald man who is seen often with the Brit, and who grumbles jokingly to him often as they each walk into the casino; a nervous Russian man with glasses who seems to stammer constantly, often accompanied by a cyborg and what seems to be some kind of cyborg dog; an old Japanese figure, head bowed in respect and holding a small twisted tree in his palms, said by many who have seen him to look like he was partly insubstantial; a middle eastern Arabic doctor, with a satchel of gleaming items thought to be vials of some sort; a Russian mobster, carrying along a briefcase and accompanied by three men in grey armor; a South American general, who seems to wonder at times if he is even supposed to be meeting with them; an African sultan, often with the South American man and who often appears to wonder the same; an easy-going seadog with full on eyepatch, tricorne hat, and parrot; and a strange man in dark black uniform, with kepi hat, a saber, and a strange green glowing pistol. Many have seen them, more and more recently, and increasingly at the same times as the others. Many have seen them, and some wonder, and question, and ask around. But no answers are ever found for these questions, and when asked the Three Brothers will politely request for them to drop the subject. And, every time, the subject is soon dropped, and the asker loses interest. And, when it comes down to the truth, those that could have the capacity for finding out don't see the need to bother. After all, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.